The winding mountain road stretched endlessly, but the woman—Li Mei—led confidently, her motorbike engine growling softly as it coasted downhill. Behind her marched Alaric's hundred warriors, their boots crunching on gravel, armor clanking, drawing more than a few startled glances from passing motorists who slowed, swerved, or sped up in fear of what they were witnessing.
As they turned a final sharp bend, the faint glow of village lights emerged in the distance—rustic rooftops, old houses perched beneath the towering cliffs, strings of red lanterns swaying lazily in the calm wind.
Li Mei slowed, pointing at the clustered lights below. "That's the village. Keep your weapons down, yeah? You scare people, they'll call the cops."
Alaric walked alongside her, still adjusting to the staccato rhythm of her words, but enough meaning reached him.
"No… blades… drawn," he said to his captain, before turning and calling out in his native tongue, "Peace stance! Shields slung, blades sheathed! No show of aggression!"
The warriors shifted, swords sliding back into ornate sheaths, shields strapped to their backs, though many still glared sharply at every strange mechanical object or distant passing light.
As they approached the first cluster of homes, dogs barked wildly, lights flickered on, and curtains shifted as villagers peered out in shock and confusion.
"What in the world…" an old man muttered, stumbling out of his doorway, clutching a half-lit cigarette.
Children peeked out from behind fences, whispering excitedly in Chinese.
(Mom! Look, knights!)
(Is this a movie?)
Alaric kept his posture tall, scanning the minor wooden signs and unfamiliar structures. The air smelled of wood smoke and fried oil, not the scorched earth of war.
Li Mei pulled up to a modest-looking hotel with faded characters above the door. She hopped off her bike and called out toward the building. (Boss! Got some people needing a place to stay!)
An older man with a towel around his neck shuffled out, blinking as he rubbed his eyes.
(Middle of the night… what the hell… You brought a hundred people to stay?)
Li Mei sighed. "Long story… foreigners… LARP group or something."
Meanwhile, Alaric whispered to the captain, "This… is a place of rest. We will remain hidden… gather knowledge."
The hotel owner's jaw hung open, staring at the gleaming armor, moonlight-colored hair, and the weapons strapped to their backs. He asked (You're… not filming something?)
Li Mei shrugged. "Maybe they are… maybe they're just weird… but I'll explain in the morning. For now—food, water, and somewhere to sleep."
Alaric, misunderstanding only parts of the exchange, still gave a regal nod, stepping forward. "We… rest here. We offer… coin."
Li Mei stepped forward quickly, raising a hand to the hotel owner before Alaric could speak.
"They're with me," she said confidently. "I'll settle the payment, no trouble."
The hotel owner eyed the line of armed warriors, sweat beading at his brow. His voice came out hesitant, half-joking, but strained. "I… I won't lose my life today… right?"
Li Mei chuckled, waving him off. "Relax. They won't hurt a fly… unless you really overcharge us."
That earned a nervous laugh from the hotel owner, and a wide, relieved grin quickly followed.
Behind them, the warriors began easing up, their exhausted bodies grateful for shelter, even if their minds remained tense in this strange, quiet world.
Alaric allowed himself a rare exhale, looking up at the foreign sky, the moon still shining above.
This was no castle, no fortress… but for tonight, it was safe.
Inside the hotel, the main room was cozy but cramped—wooden tables, mismatched chairs, a faint glow from an ancient TV set mounted crookedly in the corner, its screen playing a late-night drama neither Alaric nor his warriors could comprehend.
The hotel owner, still muttering about "foreign actors" under his breath, brought out steaming bowls of noodles, fried dumplings, and sizzling plates of meat and vegetables, sliding them onto the low wooden tables with practiced ease.
The captain eyed the meal suspiciously. "Strange… no trench stew, no ration bread… but… smells… good."
Alaric sat, trying to mimic Li Mei, who was already digging into a bowl, slurping noodles with loud satisfaction.
The warriors followed, hesitantly taking up the thin wooden sticks placed beside the bowls. Some stared, unsure if they were eating tools or possibly tiny spears.
One brave young warrior awkwardly jabbed at a dumpling, only for it to launch across the table, hitting the captain in the chest. The captain's scowl deepened.
Alaric tried to grip the chopsticks properly, but the book offered little help in understanding them. He glanced at Li Mei, copying her motions stiffly, managing to lift a dumpling that wobbled precariously.
Li Mei blinked, then laughed. "You… don't know how to use chopsticks?" she asked, amused.
Alaric, cheeks tightening with forced dignity, replied: "Our empire… used forks… and blades."
She snickered. "Guess you'll need a crash course in modern civilization."
Meanwhile, the television flared, the volume rising during a dramatic scene. One of the warriors dropped his chopsticks, eyes widening.
"My lord… a moving painting… alive in the corner!"
Another warrior drew his dagger slightly, tense. "It shows… people trapped in a box… calling for help!"
Li Mei nearly choked on her food. "Relax… It's TV… drama, not sorcery."
The captain squinted at the flickering screen, watching a melodramatic actor cry in high emotion.
"Their anguish… is it a captured soul?"
The microwave in the kitchen beeped loudly, startling half the company into half-standing battle positions—the captain's hand shot to his sword before Alaric raised a hand to calm them.
"Stand down… the food… sings before it is served," Alaric said solemnly, trying to make sense of the logic.
Li Mei wiped tears of laughter from her eyes, struggling to breathe correctly.
"You guys… are priceless."
Another moment later, a warrior leaned in, whispering,
"My lord… the small glowing box… she talks to it… It answers her."
Alaric turned to see Li Mei tapping rapidly on her phone, the screen pulsing with strange symbols.
"…Sorcery of communication… without scrolls… or ravens." His expression hardened in respect. "Truly… they wield subtle magic here."
Li Mei glanced up.
"Relax, Prince Charming, just ordering drinks."
The captain, not understanding what she was saying, repeated her words and whispered,
"Prince charming?"
Alaric sighed, defeated by culture shock but too tired to argue.
At the far corner, one of the youngest warriors finally got the hang of the chopsticks, lifting noodles triumphantly.
"My lord… I have conquered the sticks!"
Alaric smiled faintly for the first time in days. Perhaps… not everything in this strange world was hostile.
And as the warriors awkwardly navigated noodles, glared suspiciously at appliances, and misunderstood every beep and flicker in the room… for the first time since the invasion of demon hordes, they felt the slightest flicker of comfort.
Later that night, the hotel quieted, though muffled voices echoed through the thin walls. Outside, lantern light flickered, and villagers began to gather, their curiosity outweighing their hesitation.
Older men squatted near the doorway, chain-smoking and muttering.
(I knew something weird was going on in these mountains.)
(They must be some actors, right?)
(But that armor… it didn't look fake…)
Children huddled by the windows, peeking in with wide eyes. Some even whispered of "moon knights" and "lost prince" like something out of their bedtime stories.
------
Alaric looked at Li Mei, laughing at his men, thinking in silence, this world is unrestrained.
Her face was angular, not delicate but striking—high cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and an ever-present glint of mischief behind her dark eyes. Her skin was lightly tanned, kissed by wind and sun from countless trips through the rugged mountain terrain. A small scar traced the edge of her left brow, a faint reminder of reckless speed and stubbornness, giving her features an edge of experience beyond her years.
Her black hair, usually tied in a quick, messy ponytail, had strands constantly escaping, brushing against her cheeks in the wind. Stray wisps framed her face, making her look both effortlessly casual and perpetually untamed.
She dressed in practical, slightly worn clothes: a sturdy riding jacket, faded jeans, fingerless gloves, and scuffed boots. Her jacket bore patches from local places, a few stylized dragons and moons stitched near the collar—not for style, but out of habit and superstition.
Inside, the low murmur of the crowd faded as Li Mei sat across from Alaric, her earlier amusement giving way to a more serious tone. The small ancient book pulsed faintly at Alaric's side, still syncing fragments of language into his thoughts.
Li Mei leaned forward on her elbows, face more curious now than mocking.
"Alright… for real," she began slowly, making sure to enunciate each word, "if you're not playing a game… then where exactly do you come from?"
Alaric sat straight, his robes shifting slightly, silver hair glowing softly under the dim interior light.
His words came carefully, the translation magic filling the gaps. "Lunareth … capital of the Selvaris Empire… across the great rift, beyond the Veil."
Li Mei's brow creased, unfamiliar with the names. "So… another world?"
Alaric nodded gravely. "Our world… burns. Demons… swallowed the skies. My father, our Emperor … fell. I lead the last warriors of our empire… to escape… to survive… to rebuild."
Li Mei swallowed, her cocky attitude tempered. Despite the bizarre situation, something in Alaric's eyes—the weight of loss, the sharp discipline in his bearing—made it hard to laugh it off.
She tapped her fingers against the table. "You're saying… You came through some portal… here… to Earth… to China… to this tiny forgotten village in the mountains?"
Alaric exhaled. "Fate… placed us here… not by choice… but we are here."
She rubbed her forehead, muttering, "God, how do I even explain this to anyone…"
Outside, the murmurs grew louder.
(One of them used chopsticks like a sword…)
(Could they be exiled royalty?)
(Nonsense, probably some foreign film crew.)
Inside, Li Mei leaned back, crossing her arms, assessing him again. "Alright… Alaric… you seem serious… and I don't think you're lying." Her lips quirked. "But you and your men? You're a walking disaster in this world."
Alaric's mouth twitched slightly—a near smile. "Perhaps… but we learn quickly."
Li Mei sighed, shaking her head with a smirk.
"Good. You're going to need to… because tomorrow… people will come asking questions… and if the cops see a hundred armed men in full armor, you're going to cause more trouble than you escaped from."
Alaric nodded thoughtfully. "Then… teach me… teach us. We need to know… your ways ."
Li Mei stood up, stretching. "Great. My life just turned into a bizarre fantasy babysitting job."
From outside, the villagers pressed closer to the windows, whispering feverishly, as more people drifted in from nearby farms to catch a glimpse of the so-called "Moon Warriors".
And under the foreign moonlight, two worlds sat across a wooden table—one ancient, one modern—separated by time and magic yet suddenly sharing the same small patch of earth.